


This Part of Life

by kodak123



Category: CSI: NY
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2013-03-17
Packaged: 2017-12-05 15:09:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/724693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kodak123/pseuds/kodak123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>or <b>Of John Does, serial killers and other little mysteries<b></b></b><br/><i>The day after the water fountain incident, there is a cup of coffee on his desk. He drinks it and tells no-one.<i></i></i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Scientific Method](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10795) by [cimorene](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cimorene/pseuds/cimorene). 



> Minor trigger warnings for non-explicit mentions of serial killings, child abuse and alcoholism. Plus, swearing.  
> Parts of it were beta'd by the awesome **Buffstar ******and proofread by the amazing **Sherrie ******. Much thanks, guys.

It begins (Danny thinks) on a Monday. Obviously all big ~~awful~~ terrifying things begin on a Monday. Garfield says so, and Garfield is the font of all knowledge, after Wikipedia.

The current case Mac and Danny are working on isn’t that hard. It’s a classic gold-digger case, but the lady isn’t saying anything – she’s all lawyer-ed up, which leaves Mac and Danny to look for the weapon, an eight inch kitchen knife. Mac finds it in a trash can with her prints all over it and then they confront her in the little garden area of her fancy apartment complex. She tries to stab Danny and push him into the (mother-fucking-cold) ornamental fountain simultaneously. She succeeds in both, but really, lady, that wasn’t very clever – it wasn’t even Danny’s shooting arm, and in the presence of two armed cops? Nada.

Sometimes Danny thinks that Mac enjoys taking down perps too much. With this one, Danny doesn’t blame him.

The EMT has to take his shirt off to get to the wound and a bright orange shock blanket is draped over his other shoulder. She’s young, but fiery and completely tunes out Danny’s _it’s just a scratch, lady_ – Danny gets the sense that she has come into contact with New York’s finest before. Police are probably a cautionary tale at EMT school.

Mac wanders over looking pleased with himself while she puts Steri Strips on Danny’s _scratch_.

“Hey Mac,” Danny calls, lifting a hand. The EMT makes a pissed noise and slaps the offending hand away. Mac’s mouth quirks slightly and he moves closer.

Danny looks up, opens his mouth to say something, say anything, maybe a joke about the gold-digger-lady’s lack of brain cells, but his mind snags and stops on Mac’s gaze. Mac is looking at his shoulder. His left shoulder.

Danny has considered, many times, getting rid of his Tanglewood tattoo, but he leaves it there. Leaves the ‘out’ date – a reminder of what _not_ to do. A constant chant of ‘Look what happened to Louie’.  

He balls the blanket in his fists and doesn’t look at Mac.

He expects Mac to say something, but when the EMT is finished bandaging the wound (she shoves a few spare dressings in his hand and mutters “Change it regularly,” before stomping off), he finally looks up and Mac is not there.

Mac is, instead, talking to Flack all the way across the garden, but he looks up and catches Danny’s eye and gives him an almost-smile.

* * *

After that, Danny spends two weeks in almost-fear of Mac, quiet and careful – he keeps having to stop himself from tensing up when Mac goes by. Stella and Aiden keep eyeing him with twin I’m-concerned-Danny looks, Flack is more jovial than usual and Hawkes stops handing him body parts to hold. But nothing happens and slowly, Danny relaxes.

The day after the water fountain incident, there is a cup of coffee on his desk. He drinks it and tells no-one.

* * *

Danny loves his sister Bethy, even more so because she understands when he has to leave in the middle of dinner. He hugs her goodbye and gives Lucy a hug, a twirl and a goodnight kiss before leaving them with the remains of the pizza and an unopened tub of ice cream.

He parks the car and can already see Aiden taking photos and Mac talking to a uniform. Hawkes is prodding the body.

Mac wanders over as Danny scrambles out and locks the car.

“Hey Mac,” he says, stuffing the keys into one pocket and fishing around in the other for latex gloves.

“Danny,” Mac says, “the vic is in his mid twenties, unidentified, a John Doe—”

A piece of paper rustles and falls out of Danny’s pocket and he snatches it up, flushing. It’s Lucy’s drawing, the one she proudly presented him with an hour ago. She must have snuck it into his pocket when he set it down to talk with Bethy, the brat.

He realises that he is still looking at it when Mac clears his throat and then raises an eyebrow.

“It’s uh...” He rubs the back of his neck, nervous, and shoves the drawing in Mac’s direction (for all that they are good citizens who respect each other’s privacy; they are also _CSIs_ and _detectives_ who can’t keep their noses out of anything, really).

Mac looks at the drawing, both eyebrows raised now and Danny feels unusually defensive.

“It’s just Lucy. She’s five. She’s my niece, my little sister Bethy’s daughter. The three of us,” – Danny doesn’t talk about how Pete knocked his sister up and then ran away to Guatemala, of all places – “have dinner every Saturday. She musta put it in my pocket.” Danny needs to stop talking. _Now_.

Mac just looks at the words ‘Uncle Dan’ at the top and the stick figure that is Danny, with a wobbly badge as big as his body with the words ‘N.Y P.olise’ on it and ‘Love Lucy Meszer xxx’ at the bottom.

Danny wonders at Mac’s expression, which is a little like sadness and a little like awe. Then, he thinks, _Oh...Claire...did he want..._ and Mac looks up, brows furrowed in concentration, opens his mouth to speak and Hawkes yells, “Hey Mac! This vic’s not a male, his sex is female – I found somethin’ else funny too!”

* * *

Technically, the case of Amina Gill (fifteen year old school girl who disappeared and then reappeared the next day in the woods with a gunshot wound, trespassing on Fort Hamilton Army land, where she wasn’t supposed to be) is Danny and Aiden’s, but Aiden has been subpoena-ed in court for evidence giving by Schulz (Danny laughed so hard when he heard that – Schulz is the meanest, most pedantic attorney he’s ever met – and so Aiden socked him in the arm).

So Mac comes with him because his murder of a trans guy had cleared up pretty quickly – it helps, funnily enough, when the prime suspect comes down the station of his own free will and confesses voluntarily.

They are going to meet Mark Hartley, (only) friend of Amina Gill.

Mark Hartley is quiet, bright and defensive, apparently, with a deceased mother. Not a trouble-maker, but if a fight starts, he won’t avoid it. All in all, a loner. (Danny thinks, he recognises himself, maybe just a little.) The school’s guidance counsellor has a big fat file on him, but won’t say anything until Mark is officially suspected or arrested.

Mark Hartley answers the door the way criminals sometimes do – just a crack and shifty-eyed. The crack shows: messy hair, dark eyes and bare feet. “You cops?” he says, his voice rough and distrustful.

Beside him, Danny can feel Mac, well, change; there is a difference between the way Mac talks to victims (families) and ‘persons of interest in an active inquiry’.

“Yes,” Danny says and shows the boy his badge – “I’m Detective Messer and this is Detective Taylor. Can we come in?”

“Yeah, come in,” Mark shuffles back and pulls the door fully open. “M’father’s not in, if it’s him y’want.”

“That’s fine,” Mac says or rumbles really, voice one level above a threat; “It’s you we want to talk to.” They follow Mark into the hallway.

“I can get you officers, um...um...water if you want.”

Mark stands by the sink, picking nervously at the bottom of his jersey, pulling at loose threads.

The kitchen is small and grey; Danny sees a beer bottle and multiple (empty) whisky bottles by the back door. There are two unopened beer bottles on the counter. Danny wonders for one bizarre moment why Mark doesn’t offer them beer. Then suddenly, the truth hits him and he feels like banging his head against the nearest hard surface.

They will get nothing out of Mark Hartley.

Mark watches them both. “Is this about Amina?”

“Yes,” Mac says, “Where were you Saturday afternoon?”

“Uh...,” he fiddles with his cuffs. “The library. I always go every Saturday, promise.”

“All day?”

“Yeah, I’ve got borrowing receipts, actually. I’ll get ‘em.” He flicks a sideways glance at them but stays there.

“If that’s okay with you,” Danny says eventually when it’s clear Mark isn’t moving. “We’d like to see them."

“’Kay.” Mark streaks out of the room.

When Mark doesn’t return after five minutes, Danny goes after him without having to consult Mac.

Mark’s room is sparse but surprisingly clean for one of a teenage boy. Mark himself is sitting on the bed, frantically flicking through a bundle of ratty papers, muttering under his breath.

Danny shuffles his feet to make it obvious that he’s entering and doesn’t go to close to the boy. (For all the bad things that Danny is and was, Danny is no idiot.)

“Here,” Mark says suddenly, triumphant, stretching forward and holding out a piece of paper. His jersey rides up, revealing a fresh bruise on his hip and Danny suddenly has to swallow down bitter, familiar anger.

He takes it, careful not to touch Mark. “Thanks,” he says and even to his own ears it sounds weak.

The receipt is for the _Fort Hamilton Branch Library | Brooklyn Public Libraries of New York State_ , for Markus Hartley on Saturday the ninth at 12:31 – he borrowed _The Wee Free Men_ by Terry Pratchett, _Scoop_ by Evelyn Waugh and _The Year of the Griffin_ by Diana Wynne Jones. Danny is pretty sure that two of those books could be called “escapism fantasy” (but he’s not sure – it’s not like Danny reads that kind of stuff very often).

Putting the receipt in an extra evidence bag and then stashing it, Danny sits tentatively on the paint-speckled floor.

He needs to say this, _do_ this – no one ever said anything to him and now he wishes they had.

“Mark?” He says.

Danny considers closing the door, but he doesn’t know what the father’s done to him (his gut clenches at that) and doesn’t want to trigger anything.

“I know your father drinks.”

“You don’t know anything!” Mark glares at him fiercely, and then looks away.

“I do.” – _swallow, breathe_ _Danny_ – “My mother drank and my father beat my brother and I sometimes.” What Danny doesn’t say is that that isn’t the whole story; that the only thing he and Louie agreed on was that Bethy didn’t get hurt. That Bethy had enough food and clean clothes. That Bethy _didn’t know_.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, and back then, nobody told me that it was okay to ask for help, because people care.”

“Nobody cares!” Mark spat, suddenly vicious and righteously angry, “Dad doesn’t, the counsellor doesn’t, only Amina did and now she’s dead!” Mark slumps back on the bed, fists curled, looking mutinous. (Danny doesn’t blame him.)

If Danny’s honest, that counsellor did seem a bit too interested in following the correct SOP and the right regs.

“What I’m saying is,” he continues calmly, “It’s okay to wan’ attention and ask for help. You deserve it really, I guess. People do care.”

In his pocket, Danny finds a flyer (‘Get a THIRD Coca-Cola free’) and a pen. On the back he writes down the name of a local children’s counselling organisation and a phone number.

“I won’t go into care.” Mark takes the paper and grips it tightly, showing white knuckles.

“I know,” Danny says. “I didn’t want to either and I never did.” He desperately wants to clap him on the shoulder (reassurance, understanding, solidarity) but knows better.

As Danny gets up, a floor board creaks that isn’t him.

* * *

 

Mac is silent on the way back, until they hit traffic and grind to a halt on the Henry Hudson Parkway into Manhattan. “Danny?” Mac says, a question in the lilt of his voice.

Danny grips the wheel and looks straight ahead. “Dad never got taken in,” he says and maybe his voice breaks a little. “Mom died of a heart attack with complications when Bethy was nine and I was twelve. Louie was almost eleven. We never told anyone. They woulda split us up, Mac.” His (stupid treacherous) voice breaks again on Mac’s name.

Mac, without saying anything, reaches over, despite the seat belt, and puts an arm around Danny, pulls him close.

Danny doesn’t cry. He doesn’t. But they sit there for a bit, Danny’s head on Mac’s shoulder, until traffic moves again.

* * *

Bethy has been wanting to see the CSU Lab for quite a while now. Danny is not so keen. In his head (and in real life), the lab is an extension of the police station which is full of disgusting criminals and Danny doesn’t want Bethy to see them or be near them. It’s probably an extension of the protectiveness Danny felt when she was a gap-toothed kid and then a talkative teenager, but he doesn’t care (hey, he’s the oldest, isn’t that what he’s supposed to do?). Also, smuggling her into the HQ would be hard – that’s his main excuse.

The case of Amina Gill is solved – she was killed by a jealous boy who she wouldn’t go out with – the boy, a military brat, had stolen his father’s spare gun, asked her to met him and then ‘just meant to scare her’.

Mac ended up having a mini bitch-fight with Army CID over jurisdiction and lost; Danny wasn’t there, but he heard it got pretty heated. He’d snapped, afterwards, at Stella and Hawkes, glared at Danny and then left early for lunch.

Aiden had laughed when Danny told her what had happened. “He’s an ex-Marine,” she said, “and has all his Marine-ing stuff in his office. The Army and the Marines have this rivalry going. It’s supposed to be friendly, but, yeah.” Aiden shrugged. (Danny is glad that he has never mistaken Aiden for just a pretty face.) Aiden had stayed for ten minutes, swinging her legs on Danny’s desk and bitched about court (boring) and Schulz (boring) and life at the moment (pretty damn boring) and then left, but not before making him promise to behave himself.

“I’m always good,” Danny had said.

“Yeah right.” Aiden had ’playfully’ elbowed him and left.

...And now Danny is standing in the bullpen – he had been ready to leave for lunch or maybe just a walk because the city is too loud to think, but that’s alright, but instead is watching his sister make small talk with Flack, Lucy holding her hand.

Danny is happy just to gape for a little bit, but then Lucy spots him and comes tearing across the bullpen towards him shrieking, “Uncle Dan! Uncle Dan!”

“Uncle Dan?” Flack says as he makes his way towards his sister, arms full of small sticky child.

Danny glares at him.

“Well,” Flack grins, “You have fun now, Lucy and uh...Elizabeth.”

“It’s Bethy if you want to live,” Danny says, shifting Lucy in his arms.

“Lunch?” Bethy twines his arm around his as they leave. “Lucy has the day off so we thought we’d give you a visit.”

“A surprise!” Lucy shrieks in his ear.

Maybe his sister visiting him isn't that bad.

* * *

Mac is just entering the building as they return from lunch, all pleasantly full of pizza. He stops and looks at them, eyes warm.

“Lucy,” Danny puts her down on the ground carefully – she’s always sleepy after lunch. “This is Detective Mac Taylor, he’s my boss. Say hi.”

Lucy advances forward and thrusts out a hand imperiously. “Hello Mister Detective Mac Taylor. I’m Lucy Messer.”

Bethy elbows him and he has to stifle his laughter.

“Hi,” Mac says, transferring his coffee cup to his other hand. “You can call me Mac.” He crouches down and shakes her hand, lines crinkling around his eyes. Mac is _smiling_.

Bravery forgotten, Lucy flees back to behind Danny’s legs, clutching at his trousers.

Chuckling, Danny scoops her up again for a goodbye kiss. “Call him Uncle Mac, Lu. Say ‘bye.”

Lucy looks up: “Bye Uncle Mac,” she whispers loudly and then buries her face in Danny’s neck again.

“Good to meet you, Detective Taylor,” Bethy says, grinning at Mac in a _way_ to smug way. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Danny.” She winks at Danny as he transfers Lucy to her arms.

Now is not the time for Bethy to realise that Danny has a (little) crush on Mac when he has specifically not talked about it to her. Danny is fine with his crush; his sister guessing correctly and insinuating, not so much.

* * *

Danny thought he recognised the logo on the coffee cup. “Blue Spoon Coffee Company?” He reads out sideways. “Go there a lot, Mac?”

Mac’s mouth curves up in amusement, but he doesn’t say anything.

* * *

Stella will be damned if she doesn’t catch the serial killer before he kills his fourth victim. So will Flack, Aiden and Mac. So will Danny.

Danny has been awake for over twenty four hours and at work for almost twenty two. He clocked in about two hours after Stella and Hawkes examined the first body and examined the second body himself, two hours later.

They now have three bodies in Hawkes’ mortuary and are all secure in the knowledge that if they don’t find something quickly, there will be a fourth. The serial killer dumps a freshly dead body every four hours. They all have nothing in common but being male and about the same age. (Damnit.)

Stella is the one that finally notices the break in the case – Kenneth Fletcher’s (victim no. two) mom had a picture on display of him in an orange T-shirt with a horse on it in front of a cabin. So did Rowan George’s (victim no. three) aged father.

“They were at summer camp together,” says John “Jack” Martial’s (victim no. one) mother down the line in a wavering voice. They are all gathered around the phone in a loose circle – Danny can feel Mac’s shoulder, tense and stiff in his suit jacket beside him. “It was Johnny and Ken and Rowan and two other boys, um...I don’t know...”

“This is really important ma’am.” Stella really should be yelling by now, judging by the expression on her face.

“Uh...there was Aiko Tanaka and uh, one other boy they didn’t like very much, um...Larkin Caine. He didn’t come back the next year. Yes, I remember,” the lady says, voice growing clearer, “Someone broke into their admin cabin place, stole quite a few records. I, uh...oh, Johnny...” Aiden scoops the phone up from the cradle to talk to her and, after a few tries, Stella beings up _Caine, Larkin Emil_ ’s details.

There is nothing. His last employment was at an IT company as a technician six months ago.

“There’s nothing.” Stella’s voice rises in frustration. “Not even a used parking ticket.”

Danny leans forward. “Try, uh...” Everybody is looks at him, “Try medical records, a shrink maybe.”

Aiden just looks at him. Danny shrugs. “He was bullied and messed up by it, I’ll bet. Why not go to a shrink?”

Larkin Emil Caine does have pysch records and a psychiatrist. Annoyingly, all that Stella can access reads: _Attending Psychiatrist: Doctor Leonard McCoy – Psychological Trauma due to childhood bullying: currently on no medication._ If they want more, they’ll have to get a warrant and they don’t have time.

“Boom,” Danny mumbles. He should feel happy – they pretty much know who the serial killer is now, but all he feels in bone deep weariness.

“I’ll put out an APB on Caine’s car,” Aiden offers and Mac dispatches officers to Aiko Tanaka’s house (Stella brought him up on the screen, he was just a few years younger than Danny), led by Flack. He sent Stella and Aiden with officers to Larkin Caine’s house – “It’s your case,” Mac says to Stella.

This leaves Mac and Danny standing in the centre of the empty room.

“Uh Mac...”

“You need to go home, Danny, get some sleep.” Mac leaves the room as he says this and Danny follows him up to Mac’s office. He can’t shake the feeling that he shouldn’t be leaving Mac alone in the office while Aiden and Stella are chasing a serial killer with a penchant for torturing his victims.

“Or sit down at least, Danny.” He sits down, takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes. He’s just so tired and his head aches and he’s missed dinner with Bethy and Lucy _again_.

Mac sits down next to him on the couch with a book in his hand, so that they are hip to hip, warm shoulder against his. “Rest Danny,” is all he says.

And Danny must be really tired if he thinks that he can see Mac smile. Because Mac barely even smiles and _never_ at Danny.

* * *

Danny wakes up warm, his head pillowed on something – someone? – warm. Then he wakes up fully and realises that he fell asleep _on his boss_. Yeah, about that.

Blurry Mac, sitting beside him, looks at him with a white blob in his hand.

“Hi Mac,” he says warily, stuffing his glasses back on his face and narrowly avoiding poking himself in the eye. He levers himself off of Mac’s (warm) shoulder.

Mac is watching him with an amused tilt to his mouth. “You’ve been asleep for about an hour,” Mac says quietly. “Go home, get some sleep. They found the guy. He was our killer and Aiko Tanaka’s in hospital now. Alive, but in hospital.”

“You let me sleep on ya, uh...sorry.” Danny is so awful at this. He is too tired to be properly pleased about the case. He glad that the other guy is alive, though. That’s always nice.

“It’s okay.” Mac pauses. “You were tired.” His eyes are warm, but Danny is tired and confused and his head aches. His brain aches. He can’t do this – if he isn’t imagining it, that is – right now.

So he makes a strategic retreat.

* * *

“So...” Aiden raises her eyebrows at him.

“What?” Danny tilts the camera to get a better angle of the shop front. When he looks up, Aiden in watching him with a smug expression, a bit like Bethy’s.

When Danny continues to look at her blankly, she sighs and says exasperatedly, “You and Mac?”

“What about me and Mac?” Danny will not blush or look away because Aiden is _not just a pretty face_. Aiden continues to look at him.

He swallows. “Look, just drop it for now, Aiden.”

“Nobody would mind, Danny.”

“What?! Yes...Yes, I know _that_.” Danny then realises exactly what he just implied. “Uh...”

Aiden looks up from where she’s swabbing the broken glass and smiles. “I’m happy for you Danny...Y’know,” Aiden says, prodding the glass with a finger, “When Stella came to find Mac after we arrested Caine, he was sitting in his office with you asleep on his shoulder and he made he be quiet.”

“Okay.”

Okay, fine. He’s leaving it now. Saying something more will just mess up whatever’s just happened and he’s not sure what that is. But he doesn’t push because it’s the day after the ‘Summer Camp Killer’ has been caught and he’s finally had at least eight hours sleep.

* * *

When Danny returns a few hours later after going through the vic’s (a store-owner in the Bronx, the only victim in an armed robbery) apartment – Aiden was talking to the parents – everyone is looking at him.

Not in a bad way, just...a funny way. Stella hugs him and smiles and he has to swallow something down there – for all Stella acts like a mom and an older sister to him, he never resents it – and Hawkes grins and Chad, when he goes to check about the glass, winks.

Everybody knows, and nothing’s even happened yet. But someone musta told Mac, probably Stella, because she’s the only one that can properly talk back to him. If Mac had shot down the rumours, they wouldn’t look at him like, they’re, well, _happy_ for him. Mac must’ve smiled.

Which is...okay. Danny’s okay, actually.

He does all his testing and swabbing on auto-pilot until lunch time.

Then, he stands outside Mac’s office for a bit, frozen in fear, because Mac is ex-military and even though Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell doesn’t apply to him anymore, doesn’t mean he doesn’t believe it and what if it goes wrong? What if _Danny_ is wrong?

Then Flack goes past and gives him a very manly slap on the back and a wink.

So Danny grows some balls and goes up the steps and knocks.

Mac looks up when he comes in and smiles. A full proper smile and Danny can feel himself smile back. Mac’s smile shouldn’t make him feel this soppy.

“So, uh, Mac...” He rubs his hands on his trousers, feeling nervous and silly and small. “D’you want to go out for coffee?”

Mac tilts his head, encouraging Danny to go on; he’s still smiling.

“D’you want to go out for coffee with me? I’ve heard of this place, called, uh, the Blue Spoon Coffee Company, you must’ve heard of it. I was thinking we could, uh, maybe, go there together?”

The lines around Mac’s eyes crinkle as he stands up and pulls his jacket off the back of his chair. “They do lunches as well, Danny.”

“Oh.” He can’t stop smiling. “Yeah.”

He holds the door open for Mac. “My treat?”

“No,” Mac says, watching Danny close the door. “You’ve done enough – it’s my treat.”

Danny watches Mac’s eyes smile as they leave the building and go outside into the sun together.

It’s okay. Danny’s okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is from a lyric of 'I won't let go' by Rascal Flatts.  
> Yes, Fort Hamilton does exist, as does the Fort Hamilton Branch Library, both in New York. Presumably then, they (Mark and Amina) to the Fort Hamilton High School. Well, I didn’t want to malign anyone there. I’m sure they have a perfectly decent guidance counsellor, or whatever they have in America (correct me if I’m wrong). But the point is really, that people don’t always notice something’s wrong. I looked up what kind of traits children of alcoholics exhibit on Wikipedia (please correct me if I’m wrong, again) and gave some to Mark.  
> The books that Mark Hartley borrows from the library are books I would recommend to anyone. I want to own a copy of all of the three (hint, hint).  
> By creative Googling, I have learnt that the Henry Hudson Parkway does get rather congested at peak times.  
> The Blue Spoon Coffee Company is a not so far walk from 1 Police Plaza (the NYPD HQ, I presume the CSI people are based there). I have never been and do not know about the quality of their lunch. I just read about them on a website recommending good independent coffee places in New York, again by creative Googling.  
> I made up Danny’s sister and his atrocious past and made Lucy his niece.  
> Yes, if you have read the Percy Jackson series (if not, why not?), the camp and the names is based on Camp Half-Blood. Here are the name origins (I worked hard on theses, appreciate them!): Kenneth Fletcher is an intended son of Apollo – Kenneth means ‘born of fire’ (cause of Apollo and the sun and all that) and fletching is what goes on the end of arrows. Rowan George is an intended son of Demeter – Rowan is a type o’ tree and George is an ancient Greek name, something to do with farming. John Martial is an intended son of Ares – “martial” means to do with military and military law and the name John is good and common and boring (and I couldn’t think of anything). Aiko Tanaka is an intended son of Aphrodite – Aiko is a Japanese unisex name meaning ‘love child’ and Tanaka is a common Japanese surname. Larkin Emil Caine is a son of Nemesis. I mean, what did you expect? I got his names from [this site](http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20110702000722AA50AkB). Why were they all in the cabin if they have different godly parents? Beats me.  
> I was inspired by cimorene’s story, The Scientific Method, to write some Mac/Danny. In my defence, if you hate it, I have only seen series one of CSI:NY (that’s the only DVD of it I have). The rest is Wikapedia-ing. I, like Danny, see Wikipedia as the font of all knowledge.  
> Feel free to correct grammar and punctuation. I’m British (well, mostly), so I punctuate slightly differently to Americans and co. Please live with it. I’ve lived with Americans making lists and putting a comma before the ‘and’ and we’re still friends. That said, I’d love to hear what you think.  
> As someone said, at the bottom of her story (I can’t remember who), “If convenient comment/kudos, if inconvenient, comment/kudos anyway.” Cheers guys. (You got to the end, congrats.)  
> P.S. Did you know that theses Author’s Notes are over a page on Microsoft Word?


	2. Epilogue

Mac's mouth tastes like coffee (which isn't much of a surprise, actually).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why (just that)? Because:  
> a) There is a world of difference between a happy ending and a hopeful/open ending. I wanted a happy ending, but,  
> b) I'm pretty sure that I'm allergic to writing sex scenes and writing kissing makes me break out into a rash (joking).  
>  **FAQs: What, that's it? ******  
> Yep, sorry folks. Hope you enjoyed it and all.


End file.
